


Flicker Fade

by Miss_Murdered



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Angst, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Minor Character Death, bad language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-12 14:09:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2112852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Murdered/pseuds/Miss_Murdered
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Howard's funeral reunites the former Gundam pilots in Hawaii. But the reunion is complicated by the fact Trowa and Duo haven't seen each other for years and the feelings they once had for each other have never quite faded. 2x3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Flicker Flicker Fade

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothin'
> 
> A/N: I'm posting this as I work on it which is *really* rare for me so I'm not 100% sure how long this multi-part is even though I know the plan.
> 
> This fic is my overdue 2x3 club dues and is inspired by the song Flicker Fade by Taking Back Sunday which is my ultimate 2x3 song.

The flight touched down and Trowa tried not to growl under his breath as the passengers clapped the landing. It was still not something he'd ever get as the pilots job was to land the plane. Plus it was hardly a difficult job piloting a commercial airplane. It was one Trowa could do in his sleep. Doing some impressive acrobatic moves in a mobile suit was worth a clap. Not some dull landing onto grey tarmac.

"Civilians," he muttered under his breath as he waited, stuck in the window seat with a woman and a young child in the way as he waited for them to be allowed to exit the flight, the stairs being connected and all the procedures being followed.

Trowa was a patient guy, always had been but waiting was frustrating and he was somewhat bored already due to a dull flight. He wanted to stretch his long legs, confined in the standard class seat as that was all he'd been able to get at short notice. And he needed to be here. Fuck, did he.

Finally, the passengers began to disembark and Trowa was able to grab his beaten khaki rucksack from the compartment above his head and follow the line of people to the terminal of Honolulu International Airport. The queues through immigration looked long but Trowa didn't care, walking to the line for officials and agents, grabbing for his identification in his pocket that proclaimed him a Special Operative Preventer agent and it granted him quick access into Hawaii. As soon as his ID was scanned, the security personnel looked at him, his eyes widening and he only nodded and looked awed.

"We just need your fingerprints, Mr. Barton."

He did as he was told and was through immigration within minutes, looking over to see the lines and lines of tourists who would have a much longer wait than his own.

Without any luggage to collect, Trowa was soon going to be out of the terminal building and he grabbed for his sunglasses, perched in the pocket of his grey loose fitting shirt, ready to fix them to his head once he got outside. But he couldn't leave straight away as he got through to the exit as he was waiting for a ride from someone, someone he hadn't seen in a while and it was then Trowa scanned the crowd, spotting him despite the way he stood against the wall, his head bowed and arms folded across his chest. Camo shorts and a plain white t-shirt. Sunglasses in the v of his t-shirt. He looked more "normal" than Trowa had ever seen him but it had been years. And even though Heero Yuy had changed, had moved on in his life away from violence and fighting, as soon as he looked up, Trowa met those bright blue eyes and nodded, walking towards him as though it hadn't been years since they'd spoke.

"Barton," Heero said gruffly, a slight nod.

"Yuy," he replied, returning the favour.

And without another word between them, Heero grabbed for his sunglasses, securing them to his head and led the way out of the terminal building. Trowa followed suit, perching the aviators on the bridge of his nose as they walked out into the humidity and blazing sunshine of Hawaii.

It wasn't somewhere Trowa had been for a while as it was hardly a terrorism capital but he had been before and he remembered the moisture in the air, breathing it in as they walked towards a car, a silver sedan rental that seemed sedate and boring for a man like Heero Yuy. But then they were older and Heero, unlike Trowa, had opted out of Preventer. He was just a civilian now.

Trowa slung his meagre pack into the back seat of the car and folded up his tall frame into the passenger side as Heero slid into the driver's side, starting the engine and making a quick reversing move to get out of the space and make their way out of the lot.

As they drove, Trowa looked out of the window surveying the environment, glad that Heero never made him talk straight away. He guessed it could've been Quatre that had collected him from the airport and that thought was not pleasant. And Wufei would've been blunt and pried but Heero did nothing of the sort. Instead, he let Trowa ask after he mustered up the courage.

"How is he?"

Heero grunted, briefly looking at Trowa through his Ray Bans. "He's being Duo."

It was said in a weary way that said all Trowa needed to know. He'd be pretending that it didn't matter, that shit didn't hurt, that he was fine and dandy, thank you very much. Just like when Trowa had walked away. Duo had told him he was fine. Always was. He was Duo fucking Maxwell and nothing could hurt or touch him. That's what he said. That's what Trowa never truly believed.

"Same old," Trowa said under his breath, hoping it was quiet enough not to be heard but of course, Heero picked it up.

"He doesn't know."

"I thought Quatre would've said."

Heero made a "hmm" noise low in his throat and said nothing more. Trowa hadn't been invited or whatever. He didn't know how it worked with funerals. Did you invite people? Shit. He needed to know this etiquette but when he'd found out he'd decided to come. And he had spoken to Heero, Quatre and Wufei but not Duo. It would make it interesting, Trowa thought, his fingers on his jaw feeling the stubble there as they drove, his eyes looking out of the window through his tinted lenses. Duo could flip. Duo could act all casual and pretend there wasn't history between them. He never knew how to read him. It's what had made them untenable.

They were driving to the tourist heart near to the imposing resorts with so many damn floors when Heero spoke softly.

"He misses you."

"Thought he was dating some other guy," Trowa retorted bitterly.

"There's always some other guy," Heero replied, "as none of them are you, idiot."

Trowa let a short bark of a laugh leave his lips. "Yeah? When did  _you_ become Mr. Relationship Advice?"

Heero only shot a look through his sunglasses. "Since you two need to be fucking told."

Amused, Trowa turned to look out of the window again as Heero turned off the highway and they passed a large sign that proclaimed White Sands Hotel - Conference Centre and Spa and five small stars underneath. Trowa didn't think Heero knew what he was talking about but still, Trowa had just flown from L1, to Washington and to Hawaii all for a guy he  _used_ to fuck around with. It showed some crazy ass amount of commitment.

They pulled up at a plush white marble lobby, Heero getting out and Trowa doing so once he'd grabbed for his bag in the back, the keys handed over to the valet and Heero even handed a tip over. Really did seem Heero was a truly "normal" member of society now. Trowa almost smiled but only walked into the plush lobby smelling flowers and feeling the cool of air-conditioning as he walked across the tiled floor.

Soft music that was probably meant to be "authentic" played low and Heero accompanied Trowa as he checked in, standing by the side of him as credit card details and card keys were exchanged, his arms folded across his chest and looking at his shoes. It seemed some habits did not change.

"Have a nice stay Mr. Barton," the receptionist said cheerfully and Trowa nodded, smiled and grabbed all that he needed, ready to make his way up to the fourteenth floor and his room.

Heero pushed himself off the counter and followed Trowa. "The plan was to meet for dinner," Heero said as they walked across.

"I'm not here, remember?" Trowa grunted and was about to expand on his words when he heard Heero's name being called and he would recognise  _that_  voice anywhere.

Trowa had heard it enough – hell, in his dreams and in his realities. He'd heard it in the heat of passion and when he was so fucking pissed the old L2 slang filled his speech pattern. And he turned, instinctively wanting to see him even though he knew this was not going to go well. All Trowa could think is that it was a good thing they were in the lobby of swanky ass hotel. As shit, there would be no blood spilt.

Duo looked like Trowa remembered him. Older, yeah, the slight hints of age in the creases around his eyes and the braid… yeah, the braid was shorter but he was still Duo. Those blue eyes, the tattooed arms, the smirk that had gone from happy to something else entirely in two seconds flat and Trowa was almost ready to adopt a defensive position. He wanted to but he didn't need to as Duo's anger was directed towards Heero.

"What the hell, 'Ro?"

Heero, defender of the free world, cowered under the intensity of that blue eyed stare and Trowa let a small quirk of lips grace his features.

"It's a funeral. He can be here."

"You coulda fuckin' warned me," Duo growled and Heero shrugged in response and Trowa realised he should speak.

"I wanted him to keep it secret. Don't blame Heero."

Duo whipped around to stare down Trowa and it suddenly brought back a million fights to the forefront of Trowa's mind. "What are you doing here, Barton?"

He swallowed as fuck – really, what was he doing here? The funeral didn't matter to him – he barely knew the guy but maybe it was because of Duo. As no matter what, Duo seemed to always drag him back somehow. Fuck. It always came back to him. No matter how many men or women Trowa fucked, Duo Maxwell reared his ugly head in his mind and Trowa was doomed. He stopped relationship-ing years ago. Started casual sex. It was easier than every relationship being a shadow of what they'd had.

"I wanted to pay my respects to Howard."

"Howard fucking hated you," Duo spat back, "there's no need for you to do that."

Trowa realised that perhaps he'd made a mistake but then he saw Heero step forward, only a fraction and he spoke softly. "Peacemillion."

Duo's rage subsided a little then and Trowa saw him glance between them. "Okay… just one of you coulda given me the heads up, right? Mostly  _you_ though," Duo said, directing that "you" to Heero.

They stood then paused for a moment and Duo then shrugged. "I'm gonna go nap before dinner…  _you_  can join us. Then it's a full Gundam pilot reunion, right?"

"Thanks," Trowa replied as the offer was made with a friendly enough tone and the three of them approached the elevator, waiting for it to arrive and then all standing as far apart from one another in the small metal cube.

Trowa didn't meet Duo's eye all the way up to his floor, glad that he was the first to get out as he walked to his room, bringing out the key card and opening the door, walking into a beautiful bright and palatial room, a balcony overlooking the sea.

Sighing, Trowa locked the door, checked all the available exits and security then dropped his bag on the bed. He walked over to the mini bar, ignoring the ridiculous prices and got out a tiny bottle of vodka, pouring it into the glass neat as he went to the sliding doors, opening them and stepping out onto the balcony.

"This was a stupid idea," he said softly and he downed the vodka, looking over towards the waves as the liquid fire of alcohol tore down his throat.

 


	2. Always Ends the Same

Dinner was going to be a form of torture, Trowa was sure so he prepared for it like he was preparing for battle. He showered, spending far too much time there and almost attempting to drown himself. Or something. He shaved carefully and combed through his hair, it still falling across his eye but not as severely as it had done during his teens and then dressed in a simple cargo pants and shirt combination.

Trowa wasn't sure where they were going so went for smart casual and he drank another straight vodka before he went in search of Heero who had informed him was waiting in the bar down on the bottom floor. He was glad to see Heero was dressed as simply, spotting his dark hair even though he was facing out of the large windows, but not so glad to see Duo was already there and Trowa swallowed as he approached, seeing how Duo was dressed.

Of course, Duo had always had a style thing but the way he looked right now was making Trowa bite his lip – the tight black pants, the plain white shirt with the sleeves rolled up revealing tattoos, the buttons undone to reveal a toned chest and the ink that circled over his heart. He'd tanned more since he'd lived in Hawaii, that Trowa could see and that teenage scrawniness had all gone and taking a seat opposite him was hard as it was difficult to keep his eyes off him. Difficult not want to admire the curve of his neck, the way his eyes sparkled when he smiled at Heero, and how he looked so  _fucking_ good.

Least the waiter came over, bringing Trowa's drink order swiftly, and he tried to remember to pace himself over the course of the night, afraid getting drunk was not the answer to his latent feelings towards Duo Maxwell.

They didn't stay long, soon joined by Wufei and Quatre, a similar casual look to them all and Duo went to the concierge to get a cab while the other's waited. Wufei and Quatre were speaking about some book or opera or  _whatever_ that Trowa did not care for and Heero was smirking as he figured where Trowa's eyes had gone to. To Duo. As Trowa was watching him go, the way he walked – there always had been the slightest of sway to his hips and Trowa looked over to Heero who'd made a snort under his breath.

"Shut up," Trowa said with a growl.

"I didn't say anything."

There was no time for more teasing as Duo approached. "Cab's outside guys! Let's go!"

The enthusiasm seemed a little false, Trowa still could see that, when Duo was trying too hard and hiding and faking it all, but he didn't get chance to comment. Only bundled himself into the car, sitting alongside Quatre and avoiding Duo entirely, watching the scenery pass him by again and sharing idle conversation. Work and Preventer and Winner Corp until the cab stopped outside an expensive looking restaurant.

Trowa hadn't been to a restaurant like that in years. His role in the Preventers was not the sort that involved wining and dining, no Trowa spent his time with scummy criminals and working undercover so he was rarely required to act civilised. So as he stepped out of the cab he surveyed the black shiny sign, the busy lobby area and the chrome decoration as he followed the other's, aware that Duo was leading the way into the place and to the podium, politely but firmly weaving through the other patrons.

He watched Duo as he talked to the woman behind the podium, her outfit tight and black, some blouse and pencil skirt that was sultry and she was chatting to Duo like they were old friends. Trowa saw the way she leant close to him, reached for his tattooed arm, smiled at him, flicked her hair and then Trowa saw the slightest hint of a blush on Duo's cheeks and he wondered what she had said when she moved close, when she leaned forward to show her cleavage. And Trowa wondered why he cared – he and Duo had been over for far too long for some flirting with a woman in a restaurant to bother him. He turned and saw Heero's satisfied smirk, the smirk that had ended people's lives and Trowa bumped him with his elbow childishly as Duo waved them over. They followed him and the woman up some stairs and to a private table in their own room, a large window looking out towards the ocean.

"Thanks," Duo said as they arrived, kissing the woman on the cheek and Trowa felt his eyes narrow at the touch.

"We're all sorry about the old guy…" she replied, patting at Duo's arm again.

Duo nodded and smiled, that fake smile again, and shrugged his shoulder in a gesture that reminded Trowa of fifteen year old Duo Maxwell. "Yeah, well, gotta be sorry about Lydia the most. Decided to shack up with the old coot and he dies on her, right?"

The woman gave a soft smile, her hand more firmly on Duo's arm. "I'm sorry… and if…"

Her voice drifted off as if she had only just realised the other men in the room and she let go of Duo's skin. "Your waitress will be by shortly."

Trowa couldn't help but see the slight embarrassed look on Duo's face and he watched the way the woman walked out of the room, her hips swaying as she moved, the clip of her heels heard over the shiny floor. It was hard to embarrass Duo and Trowa guessed she'd offered to blow him or something by the expression.

"Guess we take a seat," Duo said, his hand behind his shorter braid, scratching underneath it like he'd always done. Trowa knew that motion, always had and he didn't comment, as by some consensus without words they all decided to take seats so that he and Duo were separate as though to avoid awkwardness.

And it did. There was wine and conversation and for the first time that they'd all been in the same room together for nearly five years, it was amicable. But Trowa couldn't help looking over at Duo during the entire meal, noting how he picked at his food, barely eating the steak that he'd devour in another lifetime and steadily drink more alcohol. It seemed Heero had clocked it too but Trowa was the one who kept his eyes on him, on his mood, on his actions.

It was proof that he shouldn't have come, proof that he should've just ignored Heero's call when he got it announcing that Howard had died and the funeral was in Hawaii. He should've just continued with his life but then it always came back to Duo. So when Duo went to the bathroom during dessert, another thing barely touched, Trowa followed a few moments after, walking to find the shiny chrome and black room.

"I don't need you watching me do this," Duo said, the sarcasm in his voice as Trowa saw him zip up and walk towards the sinks, his eyes meeting Trowa's through the mirror.

"You aren't eating," Trowa said, his voice flat.

Duo chuckled, turning his head towards Trowa. "Seriously? Shit, Trowa, we stopped screwing around years ago and here you are, still ready to lecture me."

He may've laughed but Duo's words were vitriolic enough for Trowa to realise that what Duo did now was none of his business – and really it never had been. Duo had always done what he'd wanted and Trowa had quite happily let him. There had never been any compromise between them – they were both too fucking stubborn for that.

Trowa sighed and was ready to make his move out of the bathroom, realising he was being damn stupid but Duo was there then, grabbing his wrist.

"Why did you come, huh? Really?"

He tried to evade Duo's eyes, the way they sharply took in everything and the fact they were always too blue – always that deep shade that saw everything and even now they were older, they were still as piercing. Trowa had asked himself that a few times – booking the tickets, on the flight, in the damn hotel room but now he had to face it. He came for Duo. Not because he felt loyalty towards a former war ally. That was bullshit and he knew it, deep down. Trowa concealed but he never was good at concealing from himself.

"He was the nearest thing you had to family," Trowa murmured, meeting Duo head on. As Trowa thought what he would go through if Catherine's body was put in the ground and it almost made him shudder. Men like he and Duo made their family from people they loved and cared for – they had no blood but the bonds they made by choice and those were stronger.

Duo's grip on his wrist finally loosened and Trowa realised he'd not noticed how tight it was, the urge to rub at the skin just under the surface and he was waiting for Duo to say something, emotions flashing across his face in brief moments but then he felt lips pressed against his own, a tongue prying open his mouth and Trowa found his body backed towards the door as he instinctively gripped for the base of Duo's spine, drawing him close.

It was a messy kiss, open mouthed, sloppy, tasting of wine and whatever other booze they'd both drunk, and Trowa didn't want to think what he was doing was stupid. Was because Duo was drunk and grieving as there was this familiarity that came with their bodies pressed together, with their tongues meeting in a quick frenzied rhythm. Trowa traced his hand over the white pressed shirt, feeling the muscles of Duo's back jerk under his touch and he ground instinctively into Duo's firm body, flashbacks of all their times flooding through his senses.

Someone tried to open the damn door. And the move and push of it caused them to separate, both of them flushed, Duo wiping the back of his hand over his mouth as he looked up at Trowa through long bangs and eyelashes.

Duo backed away then, walking to the sinks to splash water over his face and Trowa moved, letting the door open to see Wufei walk through, eyeing both of them with a suspicion that suggested they all had some idea what could be going on behind the closed doors.

"Winner and I are heading back. He has a conference call and I need to speak to the twins prior to them going to sleep."

Duo looked up and gave a smile. "Yeah, we're coming, right Tro'?"

"Yeah," Trowa answered.

There was nothing more exchanged between them as they left the bathroom moments after Wufei, only a glance, and Trowa didn't know what to think as he knew it was a response to Duo being drunk and grieving but it didn't stop him still wanting Duo. Like he always stupidly had.

 


	3. Knowing It's Wrong

The hotel bar had seemed a good idea. But Trowa regretted it when he got the text message at gone midnight as he felt unsteady on his feet. He couldn't drink like he used to. Getting old, he figured. And he knew he should just ignore the message. The room number, the floor, the guy who he wasn't supposed to have feelings for but instead he was knocking on a door, the plush carpet underneath his feet and it was being opened by Duo dressed only in boxers and a t-shirt, his hair dishevelled.

"I couldn't sleep."

Trowa raised an eyebrow. "Figured," he said and he noted the alcohol bottle in his hand, the label black and the liquid amber.

"You never did sleep good either."

"You could've called Heero."

"He's not as good drinking buddy. Starts lecturing me on alcohol and what it does to my liver."

Trowa snorted. It was very true and he walked in, letting Duo close the door behind him. He tried not to be impressed or surprised by the room as it was plusher than his own. It was a suite with a large living room area, large glass windows and a television that rivalled a movie theatre screen. Instead of the cheap bottles in Trowa's mini-bar –Duo had full bottles and crystal glasses. It was all sleek and modern and chrome and white leather. And it had multiple rooms.

"Fancy," Trowa commented as he walked in, taking a seat on the white leather couch, sinking into the buttery feeling expensive fabric.

"Yeah… my assistant booked. I just said get me a room here, she went… a little spend happy," Duo explained as he approached, grabbing another crystal glass and putting it down on the black coffee table to pour Trowa a glass. He took a seat at the opposite end of the couch, it big enough that they didn't have to touch and he handed the whiskey over, Trowa taking a sip but being cautious. He knew he should stop drinking.

"The Sweepers are doing well?" Trowa asked the question, taking a sip, tasting an even better quality than the bar downstairs.

"I guess… I changed things when Howie gave me his baby… got more involved in rebuilds and construction, you know, less salvage… there ain't the war-time scrap anymore."

Trowa made a low noise in his throat to confirm he understood. It had been years since the uprisings with old mobile suits and the oceans and space were no longer full of parts of old war machines. The Sweepers were no longer needed for their old purpose. And Duo had turned it around, changed it. Anyone who ever said that Duo was stupid, that Duo was some fool had never met the shrewd businessman, the calculating eyes, the sharp mind. Trowa knew that. He had never doubted him.

"You still saving the world? Spend your time with the scum of the earth sphere and all?"

"You know I am," Trowa said bluntly, his eyes narrowing.

"I'm making conversation. You always sucked at that."

Trowa snorted and then took another sip. "You always made enough for both of us. You never gave me chance."

Duo laughed at that, a short bark of a laugh. "Guess I didn't, right?"

There was a pause in the conversation and Trowa only took small sips of his drink, his eyes wandering to Duo, viewing his profile. He sighed as Trowa watched and he turned then, blue eyes on Trowa, so damn blue and he tried not to let out a small breath as there was always something about Duo Maxwell that made Trowa's heart beat too fast and sometimes he wished there wasn't. Sometimes he wished that he didn't still have those awful feelings but then Duo was his first… not the first person he'd slept with, not the first he'd kissed… he was the first he truly cared about. Loved. And that was what made his lips dry, made his throat close, made him look away. Look at the coffee table, the large screen television – anything else.

"I have to do the eulogy. His widow asked me… he just found Lydia and boom!" Duo made what Trowa supposed was meant to be gesture that imitated an explosion, seeing it out of the corner of his eyes. "The old guy got cancer. It seems unfair, you know? He'd lived this  _life_ – this crazy incredible life and he meets this chick as crazy as he is when he's old and then… he's dying. Don't seem fair."

Trowa turned again, saw Duo was looking towards the window, grabbing towards the bottle.

"And I have so many damn stories about the old asshole but…" Duo sighed and he then laughed, a smile on his face and shaking his head, "but I guess I can't tell some of them, you know? Catching me whacking off at fifteen is not funeral appropriate, right?"

"Probably not," Trowa said wryly.

Duo put down the bottle, his glass now full and he nursed the glass, holding it close to his chest. "You know he didn't hate you. I didn't mean it when I said it like that…He just hated what you left behind. That I was always a mopey-ass son of a bitch."

" _You_ asked me to go," Trowa pointed.

As he had. That last time. Told him it was too much or too little and it was fucking with his head. And Trowa had walked out, back to Preventer and undercover work, throwing himself into work.

"You never fought to stay," Duo said quietly, his voice low and wistful.

Trowa was tempted to lash out but he saw the way Duo was looking at the stupid glass of whiskey, the way he seemed like he was trying to drown in it and Trowa reached out, foolishly, and their eyes met.

"Every time I got close…" Trowa started but Duo stalled the rest of his words, glad in a way as damn, Trowa didn't know how to articulate it, didn't know how to say that Duo was always the one fighting him and pushing away.

"I acted like a jerk," Duo admitted.

"Basically."

The haze of alcohol, the sound of air conditioning all made the moment seem surreal and Trowa was going to blame too much booze and the melancholy feel in the air for the move he made, for the grabbing of Duo's jaw, for their lips pressing together. There was the sound of a glass dropping to the floor, it thudding on the plush carpeting, deadening the sound and Trowa wasn't sure if it was his own or Duo's but he didn't care. After all, it wasn't his expensive suite.

It took little time for Duo to be laid back on the couch, for Trowa to be on top of him, for their bodies to be aligned perfectly, for the lips to meeting each other in an old practiced rhythm. Their hips moved, hands touched, and Trowa felt himself moan into the kiss when Duo groped his ass, thrust his hips up, did all those playful little things that he'd always done. Which had always made sex with him fun and reckless and liberating. No other guy had compared.

Trowa slid his hand under the thin t-shirt, feeling familiar scars, feeling the trace memory on his fingertips of every fuck, every time they kissed and touched and slid against each other, every time it was more like making love.

His cock was already hard and he could feel Duo's in answer, pressing against his own as they rut, as they brought themselves to some kind of orgasm from only kissing and touching – like they were fifteen. Duo always made Trowa feel like he was young. Made him feel like he hadn't spent so many years since the war working his ass off and stopping the world from descending into hell again. Made him forget.

But then Duo was pushing at Trowa's shoulders, pushing him hard and Trowa backed off, kneeling up on the couch and looking down at Duo, his flushed face, his moist lips, his glazed eyes.

"We shouldn't do this… not tonight."

Trowa knew Duo was making sense – knew that it was stupid to fuck before a funeral but his raging libido resented the idea. But he only inclined his head, moved off and sat as far away from Duo as possible on the leather couch.

"This was a bad idea. Sorry, Tro."

Running a hand through his hair, Trowa didn't respond, only thought of every unerotic thought that he could and when he finally felt somewhat less horny, he got to his feet, narrowing his eyes at Duo who looked apologetic.

"I should go," he said finally and without anything else, he walked towards the suites door, hearing Duo follow.

Trowa stalled at the door, looked back and Duo was leaning against the wall, his pose casual. "I should've said… the funeral. The dress code is Hawaii shirts and board shorts."

"You are kidding me," he said, rolling his eyes at the idea.

"Naw.. the old coot had it in his will and all. Compulsory."

"Fine."

Trowa shook his head and reached for the door, letting himself out, walking down the corridor to the elevator and his own room, the alcohol and sexual frustration making him feel an exhaustion deep in his bones. He sunk into his bed, the soft cotton of the sheets and looked up at the ceiling, remembering how Duo felt, the way his lips still seemed the same, how he could still trace his scars and without any guilt, he touched his cock, bringing himself off to the memory of their make out session in Duo's suite.

In climax, he whispered Duo's name in the empty room, and thought how he was going to have to buy a dumb ass shirt in the morning. All because of still being in love with the idiot with those blue eyes who always pushed him away.

 


	4. You're Playing a Role

The store was playing some cheesy music that Trowa guessed was meant to sound "tropical" whatever that meant. It wasn't authentic but then the store was some tourist trap, t-shirts with slogans like "my friend went to Hawaii and all I got was this lousy t-shirt" and small porcelain dolphins, pretend watercolours and post cards.

It was not somewhere Trowa would be in if not for necessity. As he had to buy a damn shirt for this funeral. He'd been worried when Duo had told him it would be a hoax, some asshole move but then Trowa knew what Howard had meant to Duo but also the kind of man Howard had been. Loud. Brash. And in his later years drunk and high so the idea of the shirts and board shorts suited the occasion. And he'd confirmed with Heero who had joined him on his shopping trip, amused by Trowa's grumpy mood.

"Not get enough sleep last night?" Heero asked and Trowa looked up from a rack of shirts with parrots on, sending a glare in his direction.

"We didn't have sex," he replied defensively.

"I didn't ask anything," Heero said and he folded his arms across his chest and leaned against a shelving unit with ornamental turtles on, avoiding putting too much weight so that they didn't all come crashing down.

"You implied it."

Heero shrugged, his face neutral. "But you were with him?"

"Why do you care?"

"You're both miserable without each other."

"We're both miserable with each other," Trowa countered.

Heero only grunted and made a move to look at some ceramic star fish as Trowa turned to a hideous rack of shirts. Unlike Heero's who had been pre-warned, Trowa was just going to have to rely on a cheap tourist store and so was looking for one that either wasn't too big, too brightly coloured or didn't featured fish, parrots or flamingos. Heero had a subtle blue shirt with a white and pale blue leaf pattern and Trowa finally found something that wasn't too garish - dark green with yellow and red flowers. It wasn't really bright yellow and red so he could live with it, paying for it and walking with Heero back to their hotel.

"You saw him last night," Heero stated and Trowa nodded.

"Yeah."

Heero grunted and left it there - one thing Trowa had always appreciated about his friendship with Heero Yuy was him understanding the value of silence and not pushing him. Unlike Duo did - Duo who always pushed and scratched and clawed and got under his skin. Sometimes Trowa wondered if Heero would've been a better partner but then Heero wasn't interested in relationships and he didn't like complicating friendships with sex. He was sure Heero didn't live like a monk but he'd never seen Heero with anyone - Trowa supposed Heero had fought for so long to achieve his own identity that he'd not want to put that under pressure in a relationship. Trowa shrugged, he never really knew. Nor did he care. Heero's life was Heero's. But he did care when Heero was pushing him back towards Duo.

"We talked. Made out."

Heero snorted obviously amused. "Making out... is what teenagers do."

"We were piloting Gundams when we were teenagers."

"True."

After that point they remained silent, the walk back subdued and Trowa wasn't sure whether it was the finality of the day finally sinking in - the fact that they were in Hawaii for a funeral and it was Howard's as by the time they were back at the resort, they parted ways and Trowa went to change before he would drive with Heero in the rental car to the docks.

Of course, if Howard had demanded Hawaiian shirts and board shorts then he also demanded his funeral take place on the deck of a Sweeper ship and his ashes be poured into the ocean. It made sense and Trowa got out his shirt, replacing his simple grey tee with the brightly patterned item, wrinkling his nose in visible disgust at what he was being made to wear.

He took a moment to see his reflection, the tiredness behind his eyes and then he picked up aviator shades, securing them on his nose and leaving his hotel room. He idly thought about a drink in the hotel bar but instead just grabbed a water from the vending machine and walked around the marble lobby, taking in the surroundings and feeling the air conditioning until Heero appeared.

He heard his name and turned when it wasn't Heero but Duo in a bright red shirt and black board shorts, his hands in the pockets and some battered checkerboard Vans on his feet.

"Hey," Trowa answered, taking in Duo's appearance, it seemed he'd opted for sunglasses too, perched in the top pocket of his red shirt. "You get some sleep?"

"Yeah... You?"

Trowa nodded as he had. After jerking off thinking about Duo. Which he didn't think Duo needed to know - not after everything and not with what today was.

"Took a while."

Duo was rocking back on his heels, his hands in his pockets, an old nervous gesture that Trowa had seen a lot of times. Always around him. Always when Duo was about to spoil for a fight to fuck up their relationship or when he was ready to leave and abandon him. Push him away. Make it easier for Trowa to just walk away.

"You okay?"

He stopped his rocking then and shrugged his shoulders. "Gotta be, right? Old dudes counting on me."

It was then Heero appeared and it seemed he'd either prearranged to meet Wufei and Quatre or some serendipity had happened as they all walked towards them, Wufei's shirt white with blue flowers, Quatre's yellow with white - all of them looking weird in such bright colours. Trowa saw Howard's reasoning for his request then - the only funerals Trowa had attended were the Preventer ones - burying partners and work friends into the ground. And it was always a sea of black, the Preventer dress uniform black, the family and mourners dressed in black, everything... Just dull and listless and depressing. No colour apart from wreaths and flowers and the ESUN flag in blue.

But at Howard's everyone would be brightly coloured, a sea of different patterned shirts and Trowa saw why he wanted that. Not sombre black. No visual mourning. It was a celebration rather than some show of grief and Trowa got that. He really did. It didn't mean when he went he wanted anything more than his body being thrown into the sea or jettisoned into space or whatever but still, he saw the strange beauty of the hideous Hawaiian shirts.

"You going with 'Ro?" Duo asked and Trowa nodded and instinctively he reached to touch Duo's shoulder in some gesture of comfort.

Duo looked up, a strange expression in blue eyes and Trowa let go then. As really, what should he say? "Good luck with the eulogy", "hope this isn't hard for you" – it was trite and meaningless and Trowa was not going to do that. He had always been sparse with his words and he was not going to waste them on some clichéd crap he did not believe.

The other's arrived at that very point and Duo made a show of being fine, the "show" that Trowa had seen before, a big smile, a friendly wave, and then his voice cheerful and hiding anything that could be buried underneath.

"I've gotta go get Lydia… so see you all there."

And with that, he was gone, the four of them watching him go with an over-compensating spring in his step. There were shared glances but no one said anything, the nods and gestures enough for them to confirm they were heading out and Heero handed his ticket to the valet to get their car pulled back around, Trowa fiddling with his sunglasses as they waited for the rental to make its appearance, getting in and driving away from the resort and to the dock.

Trowa pushed the button, the windows rolling down and he let the breeze rustle at his hair, tease through the strands, as he thought about the rest of the day. They'd attend this funeral, then there was some kind of wake which Trowa was unsure whether would be conventional and then they'd be back at the hotel and Trowa should probably just go. He should probably just travel back to Europe, to the temporary home he had in a Preventer owned apartment block in Brussels and wait for an undercover op and forget that Duo was ever in his damn life. But why did that still hurt?

Fuck. He needed to forget about everything – all the break ups and make up sex, all the stupid reunions, all the times they gave up on each other. Trowa knew they would never make it work and so he just needed to return to the life he had. And forget.

The drive was quiet and Trowa turned on a radio station, sick of the silence as he tried to ease his racing thoughts and Heero glanced over then, his focus previously on the road and the tourist traffic.

"He's hiding how much it hurts."

Trowa sighed. "I know… I can't do anything about that. I never could."

They arrived at the dock soon afterwards, the Sweeper ship a mass of grey steel and people beginning to board it. They followed suit, joining the men in bright shirts, the women in dresses with flowers in their hair and Trowa looked around for familiar faces, seeing them and being somewhat surprised. He'd not really expected Zechs Merquise. Or Noin and Sally Po but Trowa figured a lot of people had their memories of Howard. It was like some war time reunion and despite the many years, he still could sense Heero tense slightly when he saw the tall blond as though it was an ingrained response.

The deck of the ship had plastic chairs lined up, covered in flowers and the whole place looked so different to Trowa's past attendances of funerals he almost forget that's what he was here for. But as they found seats, as they found Wufei and Quatre, the four of them sitting together, Trowa kept standing and looked back to see Duo with the woman who must've been Lydia and he remembered why.

And even though Duo was talking to people, Lydia holding onto his arm, smiling at people, Trowa guessed what was behind those sunglasses and he knew Duo was hiding how he felt. Like he always did.

 


	5. Hate that Song

The funeral was always going to be unconventional. Hell, Trowa knew that before he’d been informed of the Hawaiian shirts and board shorts demands. But then the unconventional aspects only increased as music was played by old guys with guitars, some old rock songs, and dancing was encouraged. He guessed that was Howard. He guessed he’d never really known the guy but then the whole affair was unique and different and what the old guy wanted.

Trowa couldn’t blame him for his demands at all. It just was the weirdest thing he’d perhaps attended in his life. And he knew circus people. 

Of course, Trowa’s eyes kept going towards Duo. He was sat at the front with Lydia, the widow and he saw at times her hand on Duo’s arm, him offering her his hand and it made Trowa wonder how it did feel to Duo. The closest person to Trowa in his life had been Catherine and he tried to imagine how he’d feel if she was gone. It was hard as throughout his life, born without roots or connections or family, he’d formed them himself so the idea of losing those people he’d brought into his life out of choice seemed to hurt.

He guessed that was how Duo felt. He knew Duo had never perceived Howard as a father – more a crazy drunk uncle – but he’d chosen to keep the old guy in his life and so he meant something. 

When it was time for Duo to do his eulogy, Trowa felt his eyes narrow under his sunglasses as he watched Duo walk towards the makeshift stage on the deck, a small podium there where someone would lay notes if they were using them but Duo wasn’t. Duo never would. Trowa could see despite the outward show of confidence, the quick walk, the way he hopped up to the “stage”, that Duo was pretending, that Duo was hiding how he actually felt. It was in the small ticks, in the way his hands were balled into fists, the way he scratched at his arm, then scratched behind his head as though the phantom weight of the three foot braid was still there. Even if it was long gone. But Trowa saw and he guessed Heero did. Maybe even Quatre with his long held empathetic qualities but the rest of those assembled probably saw what Duo wanted - the grin, the mask, whatever he wanted to refer to it as.

"I guess this is going to take a while..." Duo began, a few laughs punctuating his pause. "Howard asked me to do this and he told me not to make it too damn long or smutty but we'll see, right?"

There were a few more laughs and Trowa looked around to see a few more familiar faces - men he'd seen around Sweeper vessels years before, even some men and women he remembered in the vague recollections from Peacemillion when everything was blurred by imperfect memories and amnesia and bloodshed and violence and war.

But despite the reactions of "the crowd", Trowa guessed he would refer to it as, he could see the performance. Maybe there was no stage make-up, no artifice of a costume but Duo Maxwell had always been the most proficient of actors and Trowa felt like he was sitting back and watching his show.

He made jokes - told the story about meeting Howard for the first time and some of the man’s more dubious lifestyle choices. Trowa saw the genuine smile on Duo's face when he recalled drunken poker games and cigars and he noted his voice waver ever so slightly when he told those stories – his emotions showing through the pretence.  

"And I guess that leads me up to more recent times. I always assumed the old dude would never find anyone to put up with him and then he met Lydia," Duo said and waved his arm towards where she sat and she bowed her head in embarrassment due to being singled out. "And then one day, I'm talking to him and he's asking if I screwed up the Sweepers yet and he tells me he found this chick who would travel the world with him. So maybe there's hope for me, right?"

The rhetorical question was met by snorts and jeers but Trowa suddenly felt Duo's gaze despite it being behind those dark aviator shades. He could imagine how Duo's blue eyes would look underneath, dark, his long eyelashes framing them and he levelled his gaze back unflinching. Trowa had offered, once, a long time ago to be that person for Duo – to be the one who would do every crazy ass thing, be the one to travel the world and colonies – when they’d been young. Before Trowa gave up. Before Duo pushed him away as it got “serious” and Trowa knew his face revealed nothing, his eyes hidden by shades but his jaw was set, unmoving and he guessed he appeared like he wanted to. That he was ignoring Duo’s attempt at _whatever_ he was attempting. As after all, he’d thrown Trowa out of his hotel room last night. Not the other way around.

Trowa barely listened to the rest of the eulogy, hearing some comments about the wedding, about the alcohol consumed and if he could’ve Trowa would’ve taken off realising once and for all it was a dumb idea to be here. As Duo always did that – confused him, fucked him over and really, maybe the one thing he needed to take from his whole impulsive visit to Hawaii was that they weren’t meant to be together and he had enough proof to go back to work and his own life. Ask Une for a long undercover case somewhere as far away as he could go. Back to space. Mars. Hell, he’d take whatever.

The eulogy ended and Trowa had kept his eyes on his lap for the last five minutes, at his hands folded over the cargo shorts but he looked up when Duo walked off the stage to be hugged by Lydia. He saw the way Duo stiffened at the touch, noting the reaction in his body, the tensing but it past a second later and more music played, the “service” drawing to a close.

The final element was those close to Howard dropping his ashes into the ocean but that was to be done privately so it was time to “party”, food and alcohol spread out on tables on the deck. Trowa had been forced to attend wakes before, wakes at family homes with children and partners and he found this one contrasted just as much as the rest of the experience had.

Unable to eat, Trowa was blaming the alcohol of last night rather than anything else, he excused himself and he saw Heero glare at him even through sunglasses as he was left in the company of Wufei and Quatre and, unfortunately for Heero, Zechs Merquise. Trowa was tempted to offer some kind of deadpan retort about sticking his nose where it didn’t belong and _this_ being the karma for it, but he didn’t.

Instead, he walked around the ship trying to find somewhere away from the party, the sound of the band drowning out the sound of the waves lapping against the hull. There had been times, a long time ago, when Duo had just started to take a greater role in the Sweepers that Trowa had visited and they’d stayed up late looking at the stars on the deck, making love underneath the night sky and it all seemed so young. Naïve. Something. Trowa didn’t think he’d ever used the term “making love” with anyone else. He wasn’t sure that’s what it had been with Duo but he’d been less cynical then. And probably in love.

Sighing, he ran his fingers through his hair and massaged at his head, the lingering effects of last night’s alcohol and frustrating sexual encounter meaning his head throbbed. It proved he was getting old. He heard footsteps approaching on the metal, slow and steady, and Trowa guessed it would be Heero having found some excuse. Heero who would be bugging him, always so damn tenacious, trying to force Trowa to do things he didn’t necessarily want to do. But it wasn’t. He assumed dumping ashes into the ocean didn’t take long but when he heard the soft “hey,” he only shrugged and answered with his own “hey,” barely audible above the music.

Duo joined him at the railings, leaning against them just as Trowa was, looking down to the waves.

“Did everything he asked,” Duo said, his voice low, “hopefully the old dude will stop being a pain in the ass for me now.”

The small chuckle was meant to be humorous but it sounded dark. Trowa wondered if other people picked up when Duo did that – tried to joke his way through everything.

“Depends if you believe in ghosts.”

“Tro’… now you’ve put this really fucking weird image in my head of ghost Howard in my bedroom and it’s kinda freaking me out…Mark that in shit I seriously don’t need to think about.”

Trowa wondered if Duo had wanted a laugh. Other people would’ve but Trowa wasn’t other people so instead he continued to stare down at the ocean and listen to the music, hearing some cheering and clapping as one song finished and another began.

“You’re pissed at me for last night,” Duo said after a few moments of awkward silence and Trowa turned then.

“No. I’m not pissed about last night.”

“Then what’re you pissed about? I mean, Tro’, I never was a mind reader so give me a damn clue here.”

“This isn’t the right time,” Trowa answered, rising to stand straight and walk away as really, did Duo want to do this here, now? There was too much to say and then there was nothing Trowa did want to say. As what was the point? It would repeat and repeat and fuck it, it wasn’t worth it. Maybe it never had been.

But Duo grabbed hold of his wrist, his hands tight around it and though Trowa could probably shake it off, he didn’t.

“Don’t walk away.”

“No… that’s _your_ job,” Trowa retorted, realising that perhaps the words had been too harsh when he felt the grip loosen and Duo let go, turning back towards the ocean, his body in a pose that was as defensive as it could be. “Duo…” he started in some form of apology.

“No. It’s fine. Today’s just rough. Funeral and all.”

The clipped words, the pose, all indicated that Duo was done and Trowa knew that all defences had gone up. It was like a damn battle cruiser adopting a defensive position, shields up. Trowa knew there was nothing else he could say so he only walked back to the “party”, deciding he didn’t have the energy to join in, seeing how now people were in conversation. Even Heero who had seemingly been saved by Sally Po.

Trowa didn’t belong here – not in Duo’s domain, not among the other pilots, he belonged back in Brussels in his shitty apartment, waiting for another mission, so he might as well go back. He walked off the ship, ignoring the gleaming rental cars and decided to walk back to the resort, grab something fried and unhealthy to eat and then pack up his shit.

Bringing his cell out, he looked for flight times and booked a seat on the soonest one he could. And as walked he had the image of Duo in his head, leaning over the railing looking at the ocean waves, he realised it was a mistake ever coming.

‘Stupid idea, Barton,’ he thought, ‘so damn stupid.’

 

 

 


	6. You're Not in Control

He’d been leaving. Trowa had even packed his bag which amounted to picking up underwear off the floor and then going to grab his toiletries from the bathroom, throwing them into his duffle without caring. He’d booked his flight, his e-ticket stored on his cell phone, his boarding time at eight p.m. He’d been leaving.

But he hadn’t. It wasn’t Duo. It was Heero who’d asked him to stay a little longer and Trowa had rarely been asked for _anything_ from Heero. Apart from all those years ago when he’d asked to borrow Heavyarms but in recent years, Heero had not demanded anything. So Trowa stayed.

He was still vaguely annoyed but then maybe he got why Heero wanted to spend the day hiking in the lush verdant rainforest, wanted to climb up some damn hill and view the ocean, the cities, the best earth had to offer. Trowa spent so much time in drug dens, in bad neighbourhoods, in broken cities with sky high crime statistics where people struggled and starved and turned to crime - that he rarely got to see that the earth could be beautiful. That the world was better than what he saw on a day to day basis. Brussels didn’t offer him a vision of beauty either – only old buildings that had been rebuilt after the war and plaques and memorials, remembering all those deaths that had occurred. Deaths that Trowa had caused. At least some of them. It had become a grim solemn place post-war and one that seemed to have ghosts around every corner.

Trowa had asked why he couldn’t take one of the other’s during the phone call and Heero had made a noise that indicated Trowa had asked a stupid question. As Trowa could figure that out. Heero probably wouldn’t have wanted to hike with Duo due to the potential running commentary despite the fact Duo would be a good partner for such a quest. Quatre would be discounted due to the attachment to his cell phone and inability to get away from his life as a corporate mogul. Wufei… there was probably a lot of reasons why Heero would not pick Wufei so Trowa had agreed even if he’d been a little reluctant. He did enjoy hiking. Did enjoy the physical activity so he was staying in Hawaii another day and one more night, flying out the next morning as early as he could.

He called the airline, transferred his ticket for a small fee, smirking as it was on Preventer’s dime anyway, and then spent the evening avoiding everyone in his room, ordering room service and going to sleep early as Heero had requested an early morning. Maybe an attempt to see the sunrise on the way up. Whatever, Trowa was awake ridiculously early and decided to use the gym before the hike, using some of the excess energy he seemed to have on the treadmill and the bike, going back to his room when he was done and showering before he dressed in the best hiking gear he could put together. It wasn’t perfect, the cargo shorts, the thin long sleeved raglan style t-shirt that clung to his chest and muscles, but it was good enough and would work for the day ahead. His sneakers weren’t exactly hiking boots but they’d work. It was too early to find a store and he was sure his exceptional balance would mean he’d not lose his footing.

After grabbing a few “supplies” from the gift shop, water and some snack bars, filling his deep pockets with them, he waited around in the lobby before he decided he was sick of the artificial air and music, stepping outside to wait, surprised that Heero was taking him time.

That was the opposite of the Heero Yuy Trowa knew. Despite it being years since the wars, since the regimented way that Heero had been raised as a soldier from childhood – Heero still had certain habits that he always seemed to follow – punctuality being one of them. He was tempted to call, tempted to see if he’d slept in when he turned and heard a sarcastic voice.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Trowa turned to see Duo dressed in similar, he guessed, “hiking” clothes. Or at least makeshift hiking clothes like Trowa’s were – the checkerboard Vans were not going to be good in the undergrowth but then neither were Trowa’s sneakers. They were both unprepared hikers and Duo was rolling his eyes in exaggeration.

“Lemme guess. Heero said he wanted to go hiking just with _you_ as you were the one who wouldn’t bug the crap outta him?”

Nodding dumbly, it took Trowa a moment, Trowa blaming his early morning sleepy brain on his lack of quick wits. “He set us up.”

Duo nodded. “Bingo. It’s like some kinda kid setting up their divorced parent’s thing but instead of an adorable child, we have a twenty seven year old man with crappy social skills who we both can’t kill as he’s damn indestructible.”

Unable to stop himself, Trowa snorted at the somewhat accurate description of Heero. “I think he bleeds. I saw it. One of us can hold him down while the other punches.”

“Yeah… I like that plan… as long as we both get opportunities to punch, you know? Don’t want you getting all the glory.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Stood just outside the lobby to the hotel, Duo rubbed at his arm awkwardly and then looked at Trowa chuckling under his breath. “You know… kinda ironic but the hike sounded an awesome idea. Getting away from it all. The Sweepers. Lydia. Everything…” Duo sighed dramatically and gave Trowa a sideways glance. “You still wanna go? Even if it’s just us?”

Trowa didn’t see any reason not to – it was a hike. Not some club. Not some hotel room where they’d end up naked and fucking. And they’d be hiking which was not exactly conducive to long conversations about their screwed up relationship. So Trowa nodded. It wouldn’t do any harm and he was leaving in the morning.

“Yeah.”

Duo smiled and Trowa couldn’t help smiling in response as it wasn’t the fake one – it was the _real_ one. And it was the smile that lit up Duo’s face, that showed the subtle crinkles in his face that age had brought and made his eyes sparkle.

“Great. I’ll drive.”

Instead of explaining he didn’t have a car anyway, he’d been driving around with Heero in his rental, he followed Duo to an old Jeep, somewhat messed up but it said more about the Duo he remembered than the fancy clothes, the expensive suite… it said there was still the “old” Duo alive and well hidden by a veneer of respectability. As no matter what, Duo was probably still that kid from L2 who made things with his hands and had engine oil for blood. Just as Trowa was always the nameless boy finding somewhere to belong and return to.

“Nice car.”

“Vintage heap of junk… but _my_ vintage heap of junk,” Duo said fondly, patting the hood as though it had some form of life to it.

Trowa rolled his eyes as he’d always known how Duo had seen Deathscythe as more than a collection of metal and parts, probably just as he saw this car. Duo had that belief that machines had souls and Trowa never had. His Gundam had saved his life, given him purpose and brought things into his world he’d never thought he’d have, Duo included, but it didn’t have soul. Not like Duo thought.

“You never change,” Trowa said as he walked around the car, pulling himself into the passenger side as Duo hopped in.

“Good or bad thing?”

“I’m not sure.”

Duo made a “hmm” noise and reached for the radio, turning it on loudly as they drove out of the parking lot, the valets not working at the ridiculously early time in the morning. Despite the early hour and the lack of heat, Trowa unwound his window a small way and let the wind rush through his bangs, the early morning mist hanging over the ocean as they drove. He kept glancing at Duo as he hummed along to the song on the radio, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, looking ridiculously casual and more than that – gorgeous in the dappled early morning light.

Trowa remembered the teenage boy, the black, the long braid and how he used to look and how he’d changed as he grew up but that didn’t matter. Duo maybe didn’t wear all black but his clothing generally stuck in the darker colours territory and maybe the braid was no longer as long but still hung at his shoulders despite missing some of its previous length. It was strange to observe him, see the definition of his jaw, the hint of stubble as Duo had obviously just rolled out of bed and Trowa stopped himself from looking, swallowing as he remembered how they always knew how to stick the knife in and make each other bleed. Each insecurity and past mistake used like a weapon.

This was nothing but a hike and Trowa had rearranged his flight for tomorrow morning and he would be getting on that plane no matter what half-assed trick Heero tried to pull.

They arrived at the bottom of the trail, parking up in an area that had flattered grass that indicated this was where most people started and they got out their limited supplies. The sun had still not fully risen and the dampness in the air seemed to stick to them as Duo handed Trowa a backpack which was easier for him to carry his water and snacks than his pockets.

“You’re more prepared,” Trowa commented as he secured the khaki backpack to his body, loosening the straps to fit over his broad shoulders.

“I guess I always intend to do shit like this… never get the time, right?”

Trowa nodded and looked up at the trees, tight together, the still lingering mist of the early morning and then back towards the ocean. “We should start.”

Duo smiled and waved his arm. “After you then.”

And with a small roll of eyes at Duo’s theatrics, Trowa walked towards the trees ready to climb and see how beautiful the world _could_ look in the early morning light.


	7. Save Your Place

The view was impressive. Trowa acknowledged that – it was more than that – stunning, spectacular and other hyperbolic words that other people used for things that usually didn't deserve such enthusiasm. But this time it deserved the enthusiasm. The mist had cleared during the hike so that when they ascended the top, the world was clear, the ocean a rolling canvas of blue. From the vantage point, the hotels and their large complexes no longer looked so bad – little specs of materialism and commercialism that seemed insignificant comparatively to the view offered of nature's beauty.

The nature they'd trawled through, the sound of birds above, things rustling below and the muddy pathways. Trowa was right, their shoe choices had been poor for the hike but then it had caused some amusement – one of Duo's checkerboard Vans had ended up stuck in mud and he'd complained, loudly, when he'd ended up putting his socked foot down on the mud after losing his shoe. Trowa had rolled his eyes and offered no sympathy. And also refused to carry him as Trowa argued that Duo was a big boy and could manage walking with mud covered socks. Really wasn't that much of an issue for him.

They'd taken a break and shared snacks, Duo bringing out bananas from his bag and then proceeding to eat one in a way that Trowa accused him of being sexy on purpose. It was hard not to watch the way Duo's lips closed over the banana, seeming to take a stupid amount in his mouth before he bit down. And even when Duo protested he wasn't, he was just damn well  _eating_ , Trowa couldn't help but think that Duo was being a tease. Trowa then proceeded to ignore him for the rest of the duration of the break - eating power bars and drinking water, looking at the spiders that crawled among the leaves around them, at the insects that buried themselves into the bark of trees, and not thinking about Duo at all. Or how his mouth felt. Or how he'd hold onto the soft strands of hair as he… Yeah. Trowa had stopped himself from thinking about those things entirely.

Now at the top, stood together, Trowa couldn't ignore Duo's presence as there was a shared sense of triumph at reaching the top, at looking down from such a height and seeing the rise and fall of the ocean waves, the horizon, the sun and clouds. It wasn't a victory like they'd shared as teenagers but it was one nonetheless and Trowa felt Duo beside him, his solid frame brushing his, something reassuring about it all.

"It's an awesome view. Maybe 'Ro was right."

"About what?" Trowa asked with a snort - about the hike or them spending time in each other's company. He supposed at least they hadn't killed each other on the way up - no discussions about their relationship or what remained of it. Only took deep breaths and climbed together - sharing brief subtle glances as they hiked.

"The hike. And coming with you, I guess."

"Duo -"

"I don't mean anything, 'Tro."

Sighing, Trowa gave Duo a sideways glance and saw his profile - the serene smile, the curve of those lips that looked perfectly kissable without a shit-eating grin. And Trowa knew they could go there - and they probably would - but it didn't mean it wasn't stupid. It didn't mean that it was any less wrong. Both of them were just too stubborn. Too much about take and not give.

"Do you miss it?"

Trowa frowned unsure what he was referring to. Did he miss them? Yeah, he could admit he missed regular sex and good regular sex at that. Duo always knew his buttons, where to grab and scratch and hold tight - knew Trowa's moods when it was hard fucks against walls and when it needed to be slow soulful screws in bed, with hands entwined. Yes, he missed that. Did he miss the fights? The throwing stuff at each other? The war of words that Trowa always gave up on, the walking away, the punches? No, maybe not.

"I mean, the war. Gundams. Being heroes. Blah blah blah..." Duo's voice was somewhat scathing but Trowa noted the look in his eyes, the look of fire still under the surface. Like it wasn't completely gone. The war time Duo still lingered somewhere.

Trowa shrugged. "I still fight."

Duo turned, his eyes sparkling. "But it ain't like that, right? It isn't being behind the controls of an incredible machine, it isn't like feeling life and death at the flick of a button… it isn't like feeling powerful, free…" Duo's voice trailed off and Trowa didn't answer, only watched the flight of a bird over towards the ocean until he heard Duo chuckle under his breath. "I'm fucking crazy, right? Nostalgic for a time when I was a teenage terrorist."

"I get it," Trowa said softly after a few moments, "we didn't have… conventional childhoods."

"You're telling me," Duo snickered, "or you know, actual childhoods."

A small smile crossed Trowa's face as his childhood was one of merc groups and mobile suits and traveling through war-torn countries. And Duo's was no better. Out of the former Gundam pilots, only Quatre's privilege and his family's wealth had allowed him some form of escape from the realities of life. But the rest of them had childhoods full of fire and violence.

"True."

Hearing a sigh from Duo' s lips, Trowa still kept his eyes forward, still looking towards the ocean, the clouds and the waves as it was easier than gazing at Duo.

"I guess… fuck, look at me, Tro'."

Reluctantly, he turned to face Duo, seeing the way his face was set in a determined line. "I know we can't… I don't know, I've looked for  _something_ all these years that makes me feel alive… that doesn't make me feel fucking trapped and I've  _tried_ to grow up or whatever those things you told me to do. And I  _tried,_  you know?"

Blue eyes were downcast and Trowa stepped forward then, his fingers going to Duo's jaw, feeling the roughness of the morning's stubble. It was hard not to press forward, not to want to kiss Duo when those eyes looked at his face, when they questioned what Trowa was going to do.

"I never asked."

"Yeah… I know," Duo said, stepping back, the hand falling and Trowa balling it as his side in a fist, his fingernails pressing into his skin so that he could focus on that sharp pain. "You never asked but I  _wanted_ to. I didn't want to be an ass to you. I didn't want us to fucking repeat the hate sex cycle bullshit we've been doing since the war. But it's just… I don't think I've figured out who the fuck I am yet. I thought it would just…  _happen_  and it didn't. And it's like ten years and I'm still standing with you, Trowa and I still fucking think I'm in love with you but I can't do… relationships. And I can't hurt you again."

Trowa swallowed once Duo was finished, once Duo was beginning to back away, and he stepped forward, this time so they were so close – chest to chest, Trowa's height making Duo look up.

"Stop making decisions for me," Trowa growled, his voice low, "I never wanted a conventional relationship. I just wanted you, idiot."

Duo's eyes widened to what seemed an impossible size for a moment before he regained composure enough to make a noise of derision.

"Idiot, huh? Your sweet talk hasn't improved."

"Shut up."

"Make me."

Trowa did. Bridging the small gap between their faces, pressing his lips onto Duo's, feeling the stubble against his own jaw, feeling the chapped-ness of his lips, tasting the lingering banana and power bars as he plunged his tongue inside. He grabbed for the small of Duo's back, drawing him closer and feeling the planes and lines of his muscles under the thin fabric of a t-shirt, the material damp and sweaty from their hike. Duo kissed back, his tongue meeting Trowa's, his hands clinging to Trowa's shoulders and their hips seemed to move automatically to meet, bumping together and creating friction, a re-enactment of so many times.

A shot of arousal sparked up his spine when Duo drew back and teased at Trowa's bottom lip, the small hint of teeth and pain making his body respond, a moan leaving his lips and Trowa pushed back then. Stepped away. Turned back towards the view and pushed back his hair from his eyes.

"We should go back," Trowa said and he could sense Duo's confusion without seeing it and he turned to look over his shoulder, smirking slightly at the clear feeling of rejection apparent in Duo's posture. "We're not fucking here."

A smile lit up Duo's face and he moved to stand behind Trowa, wrapping his arms around him and resting his head on his shoulder, both of them staring out towards the ocean. It felt peaceful, the feel of Duo's arms wrapped around him and Trowa could feel hot breath against his skin even through the t-shirt.

"I don't know how this will work," Duo said.

"It won't work."

"That's reassuring."

Trowa closed his eyes for a moment, blocking out the world, the view, and just feeling Duo's arms around him. It wasn't going to work – it never did, never would – but life always brought them back together and if one thing attending a funeral pointed out, it was that life was short and finite.

"It doesn't have to work. Let's just be…" Trowa didn't know how to finish the sentence, wasn't sure what he was grabbing for – maybe it was "just be them" – two royally fucked up individuals trying to find something in each other. Fuck knew. Trowa didn't but right now, he wasn't going to overthink it or analyse it. "Let's go back."

Duo made a noise of affirmation and his arms left Trowa's waist as he grabbed for where they had discarded their packs. Throwing Trowa's over, Trowa caught it and secured it on his back, looking back for a moment to see the view one more time.

"It really was beautiful up here, right?"

"Yeah," Trowa answered.

"We should…"

A moment later Duo had his cell and he was manhandling Trowa into a position where he could fit both of them into the frame, clicking and taking the picture with an outstretched arm. Duo squinted to look at the screen, obscured a little by the brightness of the sun, and he smirked at the expression on Trowa's face.

"Next time work on your smile, Tro'."

"Next time give me warning."

And with a playful shove, Trowa pushed Duo to start the hike back down, Duo waving his arm and going "yeah, yeah" under his breath as they began to descend the way they had come.

Trowa had one last glance back at the spot, at the sprawling vistas of ocean and beach and tourist resorts and then back towards Duo. Coming to Hawaii had been a stupid idea, he knew it, but right now it seemed a little better plan than it had.

As while it was always the worst idea to sleep with Duo, maybe now they'd admitted they couldn't do "normal", they might find some way to make it work in its own complicated and confusing way. A way that worked for them.


	8. About Sex and Fire

The way to the bedroom of Duo's suite was a blur. Trowa vaguely remembered the leather couches they'd made out on, the elaborate alcohol selection, the incredible view but he didn't care as they fumbled their way to the bedroom, banging into walls and doors, as their tongues sought one another and clashed. Their hands were grabbing and groping, Trowa teasing at the hem of Duo's shirt, exposing his defined abs as he pulled it up.

They broke off the kiss for a moment to allow Trowa to complete the task, Duo's shirt sliding over his head and hitting the floor, a soft "thump" due to the moisture in it. Trowa's hands reached to touch Duo's skin, tracing the stem of a rose that curled into a skulls eye. His hand traced up to a new tattoo, poised above Duo's heart. The hibiscus flower. Trowa assumed it was for Howard.

"New," Trowa commented and Duo responded by teasing at the bottom of the tight long sleeved shirt, assisting Trowa to remove it.

Duo's fingertips skirted Trowa's chest in a familiar way, lightly teasing and they lingered on the scars, the traces of pain and wounds.

"New," Duo said as he traced a long jagged gash in Trowa's abdomen.

"Knife fight."

"The other guy?" Duo asked as his fingers then traced to the top of Trowa's shorts, teasing to the zipper.

"Dead."

"Good," Duo breathed as he fell to his knees, nuzzling at the scar before he lowered the zip of the shorts, his nose burying in the opening as he breathed in Trowa.

The attention made Trowa's cock harden further - already hard from the kissing, from the familiar push and pull, and he instinctively grabbed for the hair around Duo's face as warm breath was felt around his cock.

"Fuck... Duo..."

"Later."

Trowa growled at the quick retort as Duo took some pity, his fingers grabbing for underwear and shorts, removing them in a skilled motion that made them pool around his ankles. Duo looked up, eyes large before he licked out teasingly, his tongue lapping at the head, at the slit before he took one long lick down the underside - a lick that made Trowa shudder and his hips buck forward.

"Been a while?"

Rolling his eyes, Trowa ran his fingers to the back of Duo's head, grabbing at the soft strands of hair at the back of his neck.

"Yes," Trowa hissed.

"Just don't come too quick."

Trowa had a retort on his tongue but it was halted as his breath left his lungs when Duo deep throated him without any warning - the sudden feel making him lose any semblance of thought until Duo swallowed, the feeling of  _that_  making Trowa groan and babble senselessly, "yeahs" and "fucks" and "Duo's" spilling from his lips unbidden. He felt he would come too quick, the feel of Duo releasing him most of the way only for him to bob back down, the filthy sloppy sounds Duo made, the feel of hot wet heat. But Duo didn't let him get there - paused when he was close and sat back on his heels.

Less dazed now his cock was no longer in Duo's mouth, Trowa could see Duo had his own cock out of his shorts, palming at it in short quick tugs and Trowa offered a hand to help him to his feet, kissing him hard and tasting his own flavour on Duo's tongue.

"Want you..." Duo murmured, his fingers reaching for Trowa's cock, pumping him a few times as Trowa felt his world spin.

Duo stepped back then, disappeared one moment towards the bathroom and without pause, Trowa walked towards the bed with the Egyptian cotton sheets, moving aside pillows and cushions and comforters and sprawling there with his legs spread, touching his cock to relieve some of the tension.

When Duo came back, he paused in the doorway, leaning against it, his eyes glazed as he watched the movement of Trowa's hand.

"Fuck I missed you."

Trowa quirked one eyebrow in challenge. "Show me."

Duo shimmied over of his shorts, making a "show" of the removal, before he walked over to the bed, straddling Trowa and putting down the lube and condoms on the bedspread.

Leaning down for a searing kiss, Duo grabbed for one of Trowa's hands and trailed it down his back, Trowa feeling the bumps and ridges of Duo's spine until his fingers rested on his ass. He squeezed, feeling Duo buck forward and he let his finger trail into the crevice until they were teasing, swirling around Duo's entrance without penetrating.

Duo moaned and his mouth left Trowa's lips, his head going into the crook of Trowa's shoulder and then moving to nip and bite at clavicle as Trowa then searched for the lube with his free hand, fumbling to open the cap one handed while he continued his torment.

"Just do it, Tro'," Duo whined, his voice hoarse and Trowa managed to gain enough co-ordination to do as instructed, slicking up a digit and sliding one inside to wriggle around.

"You feel tight."

"Been a while."

Trowa didn't comment as he curled the finger and felt Duo bite down into his skin, moaning into his flesh and bucking back into Trowa's hand.

"God I need you, damn it."

"Need..." Trowa replied but it was distracting to say anything more as Duo rotated his hips just so as Trowa withdrew his fingers to add another that it aligned their cocks perfectly, rubbing them deliciously together.

"Yeah... Speed this up..."

Feeling Duo's impatience mirrored in his own hard and leaking cock, Trowa scissored the two fingers, feeling the muscle loosen as Duo started grinding, their cocks slick and rubbing together, making them both far too impatient.

Trowa added a third finger despite the sexual need, despite his cock demanding to be sunk into Duo's tight burning heat. He felt close from the grinding and knew they wouldn't last long once they were joined but Trowa continued to stretch until Duo pulled at the wrist with fingers lodged inside him.

"Fuck me, please..."

Removing his fingers, Trowa was going to move but Duo took initiative, reaching his hand for Trowa's cock and quickly removing a condom from the packet to slide it onto him, not bothering with lubrication as he held Trowa at the base and descended onto him in a swift motion that must've burned. Trowa wasn't small and it had obviously been a while since Duo bottomed so the fit felt so tight and hot even with the barrier of lubricated latex.

"Fuck," Duo panted, his head rolling forward and his eyes closed.

"You were always too damn impatient," Trowa smirked, his hand reaching for Duo's cock, stroking him firmly to distract from the burn of initial penetration. "Fuck you feel good..."

Duo flexed his hips experimentally and moaned loudly, Trowa replicating the sound as his cock moved inside the tightness of Duo's body. They'd done this so many times, been in this position so many times but it felt different as Trowa's hand stroked at the jut of Duo's hipbone, caressing the smooth flesh as they paused, connected, their bodies poised and waiting for the pleasure to start.

"Patience… was never one of my virtues," Duo said, his voice strained and panting, his eyes closed.

Trowa snorted even as he felt Duo clench around him. "You never had virtues."

There was a small laugh, breathless, and then Duo moved, his thighs bunching up to come back down, the first motion enough for Trowa to dig his fingernails into Duo's skin a little too hard. He didn't know if it hurt as Duo moaned loudly before repeating the same move, the pace of his hips, the flex of his muscles making their bodies come together quick and frantic, sweaty and hot. Their breathing was ragged, in sync in the way it seemed to be ripped from their lungs as Trowa thrust his hips up to meet Duo, his cock so deeply inside with each move of their bodies.

Duo rested his hands on Trowa's chest and he could feel his fingernails digging in, feel the scratches that would be there after but he didn't care, only gripped Duo's hips tighter, harder, encouraging and helping Duo's moves, making them reach climax quickly together.

It didn't have to last, too damn long and too intense, smelling of sweat and pheromones – the primal smell of sex and Duo was cursing under his breath, his brows knotted in a look of concentration, his chest glistening and hair stuck to his face. To Trowa, he looked… beautiful. No not beautiful, it was too romantic and trite for them, but he looked just perfectly  _Duo_ – moaning and biting at his bottom lip, his body shuddering and his hands digging into Trowa's skin.

Trembling, climax rolling through his gut, the electricity deep in his skin, Trowa moved a hand to Duo's cock, tugging at the same speed as their hips movements.

"Fuck… Tro…wa…"

His name – Trowa – not Tro', even though it was a name of a dead man, made Trowa breathlessly word "Duo", the word only whispered as he felt the rush of climax, his hips twitching up and burying himself deeply as he came. Duo arched his back, bringing his body hard onto Trowa's cock, the depth and angle making the cock in Trowa's hand jerk forward and Trowa felt the sticky substance on his hand and abs.

A few shuddering grinds and jerks and Duo collapsed onto Trowa's chest, their bodies still joined as they bathed in the afterglow of hot, fast, sweaty sex.

Duo's face was buried in Trowa's neck and he felt the shake of Duo's body, the low rumbling of a laugh.

"You stink, Tro'."

In response, Trowa's hand smacked at Duo's ass hard, and Duo's head popped up, looking down at Trowa.

"Hey!"

Trowa only smirked and then ran his fingers up to Duo's face, feeling the sweaty hair on his forehead. "And you smell amazing after a hike and sex…"

Raising his eyebrows in mock annoyance, Duo smirked. "Shower?"

"Yeah."

Moving apart, sticky and sweaty, Trowa watched as Duo walked away, the muscles of his back, the motion of his hair against his skin and he sat up, running a hand through his own damp hair.

"Coming?" Duo asked as he stopped at the doorway to the bathroom.

Trowa paused for a moment, thinking of the flight he should get, and the fact he needed to go back to his home and work but instead of thinking of his life, he threw his legs over the side of the bed and got to his feet.

In the bathroom, Trowa wrapped his arms tight around Duo's frame from behind and kissed and teased at the skin of his shoulder as the shower temperature warmed up until they could step in together. They washed each other's sticky skin in between kisses and gropes until they were hard again, rocking their hips together in imitation of sex until they came against each other, shuddering through another orgasm and kissing at wet lips.

And Trowa forgot about anything but Duo for a brief few hours - his flight, his job working in the cess-pits of the world and his lonely apartment. As none of that mattered when he had room service and sex and Duo's bright smile and scarred body.


	9. Go, Go, Go If You Want To

Packing up wasn't difficult. Trowa hadn't unpacked properly in the first place and he'd packed up once before - determined to leave straight after the funeral. But of course, Duo had derailed that. Or more accurately Heero had – setting in motion the events to delay his journey home.

He looked at his meagre belongings, the new green shirt and thought about whether he should leave it. It wasn't something he'd ever wear in his normal life and he should probably just leave it in the hotel room to be trashed by the maid. But for some reason, he packed it, unable to just throw it away. Maybe some stupid memory of his Hawaii visit, depressing at it was.

Duo had watched Trowa pick up his dirty clothing off his hotel suite floor impassively, teasing with his braid between his fingertips as he took sips from a glass of water. He looked on and didn't comment about Trowa's departure - there was nothing left to say. They may've decided that unconventional was the only way they worked but Trowa walking out after a night of impassioned sex with only a perfunctory goodbye did not help matters. The kiss he'd given Duo as he left was on his cheek, Duo turning his head to one side to indicate his feelings on Trowa's decision to just leave.

But Trowa needed space, needed a moment to breathe as the smell of Duo lingered and his soft moans reverberated in his ears. He still felt his hair on his fingertips and when Duo was around him, Trowa knew he lost perspective and despite the previous days conversation - the declarations, the discussions, the sex - well Trowa was sure they were just as fucked as ever. So it was time to go home, back to work and normality. But this time he'd call Duo when he got home - and see how he felt after the long flight. Find out whether Duo still felt like an itch just below the surface of his skin or not. Trowa guessed he always would – but maybe it was better if they didn't keep scratching at the scab, the old wound.

Once he was packed up, Trowa slung his bag over his shoulder and sent a text to Heero who still offered to drive him to the airport even though Trowa had changed his flight times. Sighing, he shoved the phone in his pocket and walked towards the balcony to look out at the view one last time.

He rubbed at his temples as he leaned against the metallic railing, looking over at the ocean and Trowa knew he was walking away at the wrong point - that he should stick around and see if anything became of this but he needed perspective. Perspective he couldn't acquire when he was wrapped up and around Duo.

Pushing himself off the railing, Trowa grabbed his bag and prepared to leave the room after a quick paranoid sweep, leaving behind his sad barely used hotel room in Hawaii. It wasn't as though he had anything valuable or worth something to him with him but paranoia still lingered. It always would and he soon strode out, hearing the door "snick" closed behind him.

Heero was waiting in the lobby, sunglasses covering his eyes which made his expression completely unreadable. His mood could be anything from neutral to flaming pissed and Trowa had no clue. Heero Yuy should be banned from Ray Bans stores. Or any other sunglasses manufacturers store.

"Hey," Trowa said in some form of unnecessary greeting.

Heero merely nodded and walked out of the lobby, handing his ticket over to the valet as it wasn't as early as the previous morning. The silent treatment did not surprise Trowa – Heero was not known to be the most talkative person anyway and nor could Trowa blame him for that as neither was he. But he was sure the treatment was because he was leaving after Heero's attempt to bring him and Duo together.

The car was pulled round and they got in without comment, Trowa looking back as they drove away from the plush and marble of the resort, his eyes narrowing as he imagined Duo probably getting up from the bed they fucked in last night, maybe getting dressed. Maybe getting breakfast. Trowa shook his head and took a deep breath. He was doing the right thing as he needed to figure it out. He needed to  _know_ this wasn't another stupid circle that they were looping in. Trowa didn't want to get hurt again. And Duo knew how to hurt him too damn perfectly.

"You have a mission?" Heero asked, his voice low and even. Deadly. It reminded Trowa briefly of the determined boy ready to fight Zechs, ready to offer a gun to the families of the men he had killed – it sounded like war-time Heero Yuy. Which was rare.

"Not yet."

Trowa knew if he'd said "yes" and lied to Heero, he wouldn't have asked anymore questions. But Heero could check and probably would – hacking into the Preventer database a hobby on a dull day and so Trowa opted for the truth.

"You don't think I should leave?"

"You spent last night with him."

Trowa gave a sharp glance towards Heero, his face impassive, his head turned towards the road and the lazy tourist traffic. Maybe if it had been someone else but Heero, Trowa may've got angry - those rare occasions that he did bother getting angry - but Trowa instead rolled down his window so he could hear the rushing breeze and the traffic, the ocean in the distance.

"Sex never solved anything with us before."

The grunt in response ended the conversation, or what could be called a conversation by two guys who were unreasonably quiet anyway. Heero knew not to push and Trowa didn't want to offer anything more. Maybe he wanted to know, still, why Heero wanted them together, why it  _mattered_ beyond the whole "they were miserable without each other" thing. Trowa mused on it until he couldn't anymore.

"Why does it matter to you?"

"Because you can have… what I can't."

Trowa felt air leave his lungs. "You mean Duo?"

Heero shook his head vehemently. "No. You can have  _him,_ " he said, a hint of deadpan humour in his voice. "No. Love. Relationships."

He didn't press for a minute, letting the sound of the traffic fill the car. "You could, Heero."

"Don't… not from you."

The way he spoke suggested that Heero had had this conversation before and Trowa knew he shouldn't press, shouldn't pry… he knew Heero's life was one that had been shaped by his near brain-washing as a child, his training, then the pain of the ZERO system on his teenage mind but it still seemed so damn sad that he didn't feel he could have someone in his life. Not even an idiot who Trowa loved even though they fought, even though they screwed up… Duo was who he wanted to be with.

In a movie, Trowa would've got Heero to turn the car around, he would've dashed to the hotel, flung his fists against Duo's room and demanded his love or something cheesy. Instead, Trowa let Heero drive him to the airport, stop outside the departures in the drop off zone and only grab for his bag when he was ready to leave.

"You're the same," Heero said softly as Trowa stalled, paused. "The only difference is you walk away whereas he runs."

Trowa had nothing to say to that and he knew from years of experience Heero didn't find it rude for him to get out of the car, a small wave his only gesture of goodbye as he made his way into the terminal building. He looked back as the car drove away, hearing the echo of Heero's words in his head. But then he was walking into the terminal building, going through security, removing belt and shoes, and soon he was in the departure lounge, waiting, sitting, his foot bobbing up and down as he was suddenly restless.

He checked his phone to see no messages that he wanted to deal with – there were a few from work, Trowa imagined about his use of the corporate account and fucking around with his flights but there was nothing from Duo. He guessed he deserved that. As yes, he was walking away – walking away just as he'd done before. But in the past Trowa always blamed Duo. As Duo had pushed him away, made it untenable for him to stay but this time… he'd only watched his go, his eyes downcast, his hair messy from the night of sex… his skin seeming to glisten and show the marks of where Trowa bit down and grabbed…

Those thoughts were stalled by his flight being called – the first leg he needed to get to New York before he transferred. And he knew if he was going to do  _anything_ he had to do it now. Send a message. Leave and go back to the damn hotel. But indecision wracked through his body and Trowa did the only thing he knew he could do without hurting either himself or Duo.

He walked towards his gate.

It didn't take long to board and soon Trowa was seated in the window, looking out at the grey tarmac, the sunshine, the palm trees in the distance. He didn't glance as someone sat beside him, only watched the vehicles and the people at work, bright clothing making them visible to all.

"Good trip?"

Trowa turned when the person sitting next to him spoke and he turned to see an older woman and Trowa gave a non-committal shrug.

"I was here for a funeral."

The statement at least stopped any attempt at conversation as Trowa didn't know whether he'd had a good trip. All he knew was he was going home and he still felt as though he could feel Duo's lips against his throat, his hair on his fingertips and smell in his nostrils.

The woman didn't ask anymore and once they were in the air, Trowa let his eyes drift closed, intending to sleep the first leg of his journey and try not to dream about deep blue eyes, parted lips and slick skin. But he failed. He always did.


	10. Epilogue - Love You Just the Same

The flight had been uneventful. A small amount of turbulence over the Irish coast as the plane made its way across land after the expanse of the Atlantic but that was all. Trowa had slept on and off, curling up in his provided blanket and propping his pillow to lay his head against the side of the cabin. Despite the sleep, Trowa still felt groggy as he made his way through the familiar international airport in Brussels, walking to the specialist security line and exiting the terminal swiftly, unsurprised when the day was grey and rain was falling when he walked into the open. 

Trowa got a cab and wondered about heading home - home to the grey utilitarian block he called home - at least for now but instead when he sat down he nodded towards the driver and said a different location.

"Preventer HQ."

The driver raised an eyebrow but maybe Trowa's sleep mussed hair, his stubble and the bags under his eyes all indicated that he was not to be questioned as he probably looked like he could kill a man. The silent drive was familiar and Trowa barely looked, checking a few messages on his phone instead as they approached the centre of the city and the large Preventer building, imposing and modern, part of the post-war rebuilding period.

Trowa paid the fare with the small amount of Euros he still had in his wallet and he left the vehicle, walking into the bright lobby, the glaring lighting reflecting on the marble floor.

With his ID card in hand, Trowa passed through the security check points, shoving his card into the slot and throwing his bag onto the scanner as he walked through the body scanners - no weapons on him to be checked. Soon he was in the elevator, his head hung low and staring at the sparkling floor rather than looking at himself in the mirrored surface of the elevator.

Once he arrived at his floor, Trowa scanned the cubicles for a free desk space and spotted one. Trowa and other agents of his kind did not have offices, they hot-desked and used whatever was available and so Trowa selected the first one he saw, signing onto the computer to check his emails and make a request for an assignment as soon as possible. He should've gone and seen a superior, even Une herself but his senior colleagues knew his personality and knew his unorthodox ways and ignoring protocol. So email it was.

After completing the task, knowing he was purely avoiding going back to his apartment, Trowa knew he could stall no longer and left the building, walking the blocks to his apartment complex. It wasn't too far away and he stopped for a takeout black coffee on the way, hoping that the combination of the fresh cool air and the caffeine would rouse him from the feeling of tiredness and exhaustion in his bones.

It didn’t but least it wasted more time – the sudden desire to be anywhere but Brussels coursing under his skin. Trowa just wanted to move – go – and he wasn’t even sure where. Back to Hawaii was a dumbass idea but still…

His apartment complex was Preventer owned and was where new recruits were generally given living accommodation. Trowa had lived there at the beginning. And he still did. His life undercover meaning he never had time to create roots, a place to belong, and so he’d managed to stay in the same four white-washed walls during his entire Preventer career. They took the money for bills straight from his pay cheques. It meant Trowa had nothing to do but feed himself. Which he did. Badly.

Trowa walked up to the building, pressing his finger to the scanner to enter the building and hearing the “bip” that let him in. The lobby was empty and he sought out his mail box, inputting his code and checking the small amount of physical mail he received. There appeared to be something from Catherine, a small box and he shook it guessing it was some gift. He collected the rest and locked it up, taking the stairs to his apartment to delay the inevitable.

He was a dumbass. Trowa knew that. He’d never done the right thing – especially when it came to Duo. He should’ve said a million things – should’ve asked the damn questions about how Duo felt but he never did. It wasn’t who he was. Or that was his excuse. Maybe he was just scared. He needed to get over that. He was getting too old to be scared of commitment.

The door to his apartment was grey and dull as all the others on the corridor and he heard the sound of the people on his floor – the sound of music and televisions and whatever else as he opened his own empty place. After inputting a code and using a fingerprint, the door lock mechanism opened and Trowa stepped inside, slinging his back to the floor and leaving it where it ended up. Wasn’t like he needed anything in it.

He stopped for a second, frozen in the doorway of his apartment, the door still open behind him as he smelt something that didn’t belong in his apartment – not the stale smell of a disbanded place. No, it was the smell of frying bacon, the smell of pancakes, the smell of coffee.

Trowa didn’t tense, only closed and locked the door and followed the small hallway to the open kitchen, pausing in the doorway as he saw Duo in his kitchen. He’d never been to this apartment – probably a good thing as Trowa had kept it as bland as the day he’d been assigned to it so it was something Duo would make fun of him for – tease him for and Trowa would deserve those jests. As it was a fucking depressing place.

“You left before breakfast,” Duo said, looking up and Trowa didn’t move for a second as he watched him work in the confined space of the kitchen.

“I’m not going to ask how you did this…”

Duo looked up, a smirk on his face. “Just say it’s a lil bit of my old magic and leave it at that, right?”

Trowa let a small laugh escape his lips. Of course, it wasn’t magic. It was probably the fact Duo had access to a private jet due to his high power position and his ownership of the Sweepers. Probably meant he could take a direct flight to Trowa’s meandering one. And he’d had time to get food. Not hard as the small store on the corner seemed to be set to provide food for young Prev agents unable to cook for themselves. Like Trowa.

Trowa approached, walking the small distance to stand behind Duo, glancing over his shoulder as bacon was being fried, as pancakes were being made and Duo turned to face him after putting the pans off the heat for a few moments.

“This time it’s gonna be different. You _tell_ me shit,” Duo said firmly, his hand at his jawline, tracing the stubble, “if you don’t want me here, I’ll go but damn it, Tro’, no more of this cycle. It doesn’t have to be perfect…. Just us.”

It was difficult to meet Duo’s eyes, clear and blue and big, a slight glisten to them and Trowa leaned the distance down, clasping at the back of Duo’s head, feeling the softness of his hair.

“Stay,” he whispered, “as this time you didn’t run from me…” Trowa pressed a kiss to Duo’s lips softly “…you ran to me.”

Duo chuckled. “I’m not gonna stop fuckin’ stuff up.”

Trowa shrugged. “Neither will I.”

Arms looped around his neck, Duo pressing closer, chest to chest, groins bumping and Trowa felt Duo’s breath against his skin, hot and wet.

“Heero will be happy,” Trowa murmured.

“Maybe… until we fuck it up.”

“So let’s try not to.”

And against Trowa’s lips, Duo whispered “agreed” as their lips met for a languid kiss and while it was never going to be perfect, probably wasn’t going to work, Trowa didn’t give a shit as he loved Duo and if it ended the same as it always did he didn’t care. As his feelings would never fade. And he didn’t want them to.

 


End file.
